


No Rest For The Wicked

by bornofwrath



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Assault, Flashbacks, Hurt/Comfort, I just really wanted a hurt fic, I'm Going to Hell, People are Assholes, cole is still dead, kind of happy ending ??
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-29
Updated: 2018-06-24
Packaged: 2019-05-26 21:44:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15010070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bornofwrath/pseuds/bornofwrath
Summary: Connor is attacked on the streets of Detroit by a gang of anti-android protesters, Hank isn't very happy.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> TW: ASSAULT  
> POST PACIFIST END

 

 

_"Remember Connor, change won't happen in a day, it takes time._

_Just be patient."_

 

 

Markus was making great progress, there was no doubt about that, every day Connor felt like the world was getting more and more accepting of androids, so accepting in fact that he was able to purchase his own apartment, and get his own fish. He was really getting accustom to everyday life, and it gave him a certain feeling, one he was still working on defining. Hank had told him he was feeling pride, but he still didn't think that fit just right.

 

Connor was attempting to think of another word that fit _that_ day. He was walking down the sidewalks of Detroit, carrying a bag of books about dogs, psychology, and law, which were protected from the light drizzle, which his software had predicted that very morning, by the plastic baggy, and he felt a small smile pull at the corner of his lips as he felt the water droplets land in his palm, feeling it get a bit heavier, could the rain get a bit heavier? Could there be a storm coming?

 

Connor hummed in thought just before he felt his shoulder be bumped, and he stumbled a few steps forward, looking up at the person who's ran into him. The person, a man, turned around, raising his forearms in a 'come at me' pose. Connor scanned him quickly.

 

**STEPHEN HOPPER**

**AGE: 34**

**CRIMINAL RECORD:**

**\- AGGRAVATED ASSAULT**

**\- DESTRUCTION OF PROPERTY/ANDROID**

 

Connor cringed at the reference of Androids as 'property', making a mental note not to provoke the man in any way shape or form, even if he himself didn't deem it as aggravation, Hank had made it quite obvious that Connor had a tendency to be accidentally annoying. So, to avoid any contact at all, Connor took a turn towards an alleyway, recalculating his route. But, just as he did so, he heard footsteps coming behind him, and Connor felt a feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach. In an act of habit he began to create simulations as to what to do if this man were to jump him.

 

Suddenly, just as he finished his last simulation, he felt a thud on the back of head, and fell onto his hands and knees, his books falling to the ground. He heard the man throw the pipe to the ground and he walked in a confident stride beside him, kicking him in the stomach, his kicks swift and full of anger,  _'GAH!"_ Connor cried out, almost instinctively, and felt his pride melt into shame and embarrassment as his face fell to the cement, wrapping his arms around his midsection.

 

"What's wrong tin can, can't fend for yourself?" The man asked as Connor rolled to his side, his LED flickering an anxious red, like an accelerating heart rate as he remembered Markus' wishes,

 

_"No matter what happens, Connor, don't harm any humans..._ _Remember Connor, change won't happen in a day, it takes time. j_ _ust be patient."_

 

Connor held himself up with his forearm, looking to his books as the rain began to pour, pellet like drops slapping his faux skin. He ignored the man's eyes, though he could feel his gaze burning into the back of his skull. "Holy shit! Dent the can and it'll still stand...Good to know." He said before grabbing Connor by the collar of his uniform, the usual RK800 that he hadn't stopped wearing, but now it seemed like a beacon for men like this to harass him.

 

"Stop, please, you don't have to do this!" Connor begged, fighting the urge to fight back, use every single defense tactic that was programmed into him to fight of this bastard, but continued to fight against his objectives.

 

"T'yah, that's a fat load of shit," the man sneered, "all you fuckin' androids, comin' in to take over Detroit.'

 

Connor looked up as he heard a click, the man throwing him against the wall right after. He knelt in front of Connor, wrapping his hand around his neck and keeping him pinned to the wall, despite the fact that he was sitting against the wall ad hadn't shown any signs of restraint, but this man seemed hellbent on making Connor feel as helpless as possible. Finally the source of that click came into view, and he saw the shimmer of a switchblade. His LED somehow flickered in even ore distress, his stress levels through the roof. "Let's see if we can just make you a  _little_ more human, yeah tin can?" The man asked, pointing the blade at his LED.

 

"No... _Nonono_ please don't!" Connor begged, he wasn't sure why, but he hadn't removed his processing LED yet, both Markus and Hank had offered to help him remove it, but he'd kindly refused. It was almost like it gave him some sort of comfort, something that'd stayed with him throughout all of this. He knew it was stupid, but it helped, and to have it forcibly removed by this man? He couldn't stop panicking.

 

"Don't worry, it won't hurt, you're not human after all," he cruelly reminded him, but oh how wrong he was.

 

The man dug the switchblade into his temple and Connor let out a scream of terror, feeling the switchblade dig deeper than it needed to, digging and cuttig into his bio-components, his vision in his left eye going haywire, a blur of static and thirium practically blinding his eye, "stop, please!" Connor begged, "you're destroying me, I-I can't see!" The smell of thirium filled the air, and finally Connor heard a faint  _pop,_ signaling that the man had achieved his goal.

 

Connor heard the man take off without a word, leaving a trail of thirium -  _Connor's_ thirium - behind him. The android instinctively reached for where his LED would be, only finding the space vacant, thirium still dripping down his face, his vision progressively worsening.

 

 

**BIO-COMPONENTS:** _**DEFECTIVE - VISION** _ **_IMPAIRED_ **

 

Connor huffed and leaned heavily against the wall, trying to ignore the sight of the mixture of thirium and water sliding down a drain as he forced himself to his feet, picking up his books and moving slowly to Lieutenant Anderson's house.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

Hank was, surprisingly, sober that evening, casually watching a game of basketball and eating some Chinese take-out, with Sumo resting on his lap, occasionally receiving some vegetables for good behavior, even though he knew Connor - who'd practically become Sumo's owner - would disapprove. But Connor wasn't there right now, he'd moved out about four months ago into his own apartment, which Hank was secretly proud of, though he'd never admit it. He remembered when he first helped him move in, making the apartment look more homely, rather than his original plan of just a desk, computer, and a bookshelf. Hank was even the one who suggested he get a fish tank, only to hear the next day how all the fish had names, ad seemingly different ways of acting.

 

Let's just say Hank now knows more about clown fish than he ever intended to.

 

Suddenly, just as one o the players made a basket, Sumo started to bark both excitedly and energetically, Hank gasped as the dog crawled across him before leaping off the couch, bolting to the door and scratching at it. "Jesus Sumo calm the fuck down! You haven't lost your shit like this since Con - " and just as he said that he saw Connor, soaked in rainwater, thirium soaking the side of his face from the temple down, his left eye completely white, and he was leaning heavily against the wall. "Connor! What the fuck happened to you?!" He asked, completely awestruck at the sight, ad just as he pulled Sumo away Connor collapsed in his arms, "Jesus - Fuck!" He groaned as Connor's face fell into his shoulder, and he struggled to keep the android held up.

 

"Anti...Android...Alleyw-...Way..." He weakly explained, "didn't know...Where else...To...Go..."

 

Hank felt his heart sink as he practically dragged Connor inside, ordering Sumo to take his bag of books in, the dog complied and Hnk shut the door. "C'mon kid, let's get you fixed up." He eased, laying Connor on the couch, straightening his ruined, wet hair, "Jesus Christ..." He whispered, "Conor, you gotta tell me what to do.'

 

"N-N...Nothing...Self...Repair..." Connor replied slowly, his voice changing pitch as he reached a shut down, "shut down...Rest...Be better..."

 

Hank nodded, continuing to stroke Connor's hair in an attempt to calm his nerves as Connor slowly shut down into a deep sleep.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

Connor awoke with a start, instinctively reaching for his LED, only to feel a vacant spot where it used to be. His vision had seeming repaired itself, but he could still feel the way the man's switchblade dug into his temple. He looked around, realizing that he had, in fact, made it to Hank's. Connor sighed and looked at the dry change of clothes the Lieutenant had given him, swinging his legs over off the couch, immediately being greeted by Sumo, who leaped onto the couch and pelted him with licks, which Hank assured him were just kisses. "Hello Sumo," he greeted, scratching behind his ears just as Hank walked into the room, sipping a cup of coffee, "there are traces of fried vegetables around his mouth, Hank, were you feeding him Chinese?" He asked as Hank sat in his armchair.

 

"We're not gonna talk about that kid," he said, his voice thick with sincerity, and Connor knew he was being serious, so he re-positioned himself as such, continuing to pet Sumo for comfort, "we're gonna talk about why the fuck you came to my doorstep at eleven at night, bleeding enough blue blood to fill all the lakes in all of fucking Minnesota!" Hank exaggerated, and Connor tilted his head to the side.

 

"Lieutenant I'm sure I didn't lose enough thirium to fill ten thou - "

 

"That's not the fucking point, son!"

 

Connor went quiet, adverting his gaze down to his hands in his lap, fidgeting with his coin, which Hank had placed in the clean pajama pants. That damn coin. "What happened, Connor?" Hank asked, chugging his coffee and leaning back in his chair. And so Connor told him everything, about how the man followed him, and how he pulled out his LED, damaging his bio-components, and how he didn't know what else to do except come to Hank's.

 

And in the end, Connor was crying.

 

It was strange, and it made him feel strange.

 

"Don't worry kid," Hank said, wrapping his arms around the android, "we'll get this fucker back."


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor gets his closure.

 

 

 

 

"I don't know what you expect me to do, Hank." Fowler said, pinching the bridge of his nose as he looked through the case file,  _Connor's_ case file. That alone made Hank's blood boil, Conoor shouldn't  _have_ a case file, he was innocent, damn it!

 

"What the fuck do you mean you don't know what to do, Jeffery?!" Hank asked angrily, slamming his hand into the Chief's desk, "find the asshole and put him behind bars!" Saying Hank was livid was an understatement, in fact he was sure there wasn't a word in the English language that described how utterly pissed he was.

 

"I mean the guy did his research on how to fuck up Androids," Jeffery clarified, "he damaged the kid enough to not make a conclusive sketch, and there's nothing at that scene except his thirium and LED," he flipped a photo of the scene, not wanting to make Hank look at it anymore.

 

"Jeffery I swear to God if you're telling me we're just gonna let this fucker go - "

 

"That's  _not_ what I'm saying here Hank, I'm just saying it won't be easy." Fowler cut him off, glaring up at him, "look, we'll do what we can, but I'm not letting you be a part of this case." He insisted, standing up from his desk, "you're too involved."

 

Hank's head snapped up at Fowler, a look of confusion and anger buried deep in his expression, "bullshit I'm not a part of this!" Hank practically screamed, walking up face-to-face with Jeffery, his voice getting quiet, just above a whisper. "Jeffery...That kid's practically my son, and I'll be  _damned_ if I let this fucker get away with hurting him." He persisted, keeping his voice just above a whisper for only Jeffery to hear.

 

Hank loved Connor like a son, and seeing him come home that night, terror evident in his glassy eyes as his thirum poured out of him like a river...It was almost like seeing Cole all over again in that damn accident. "I know, Hank," Jeffery eased, taking his shoulder, "he's one of us, remember? And we don't let anyone hurt our team," he assured, leading Hank to the door, "protect and serve, remember?"

 

Hank huffed, nodding.

 

"Now go take care of your boy."

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

Connor had stayed the night at Hank's, shutting down on the couch, continuing his self repairs in a desperate attempted to restore the imagery in his memory components, get an image of his attacker, because despite the fact that he knew his name and criminal record, there were too many Stephen Hopper's, and with no imagery, it was impossible to be certain, and Connor didn't want to risk putting an innocent man behind bars.

 

"Hey son," Hank greeted as he walked through the door, putting his keys on the dining room table as he glanced at Connor, smiling at the sight of Connor playing tug-of-war with Sumo. It was obvious that he was going easy on the old dog, given that Connor was programmed to overpower Deviants, but the thought alone was precious.

 

"Good morning, Lieutenant." Connor smiled, throwing the chew toy for Sumo to fetch, but the dog simply held it in his mouth and laid on the ground, gnawing at it. Connor sighed and stood off the ground, dusting off the jeans Hank had given him, "Lieutenant, is my uniform washed yet? I'd like to put it on as soon as possible," Connor asked, "not that I don't appreciate the hospitality."

 

Hank rolled his eyes and took off his coat, throwing it along the table with his key, "knock it off with that 'Lieutenant' shit, Connor, you can call me Hank." He scolded, walking over to Connor and looking at him dressed in civilian clothing. It was strange, to say the least. "Secondly, thirium is a pain in the ass to get outta clothing, you'd be better off just asking Jeff for a normal uniform."

 

Connor frowned and nodded, walking over to the couch and seating himself, flipping his coin, watching it go up and down over and over, scanning through his memories at the same time. He felt like he was losing his mind. "Hey kid, what's up?" Hank asked, sensing Connor's distress, "talk to me."

 

Connor sighed and shook his head, catching the coin in the palm of his hand before looking over at Hank, "everything's changing," he confessed, "it's good change, most of it...But some things are...Harder. My LED, my uniform...Everything." He fidgeted the coin between each of his fingers, "I feel like I'm losing my mind."

 

Hank gulped, feeling his stomach churn like butter, "you're not losing your mind, Connor," he reassured, "you're just...Dealing with everything in your own way, there's nothing wrong with that." He sat down next to him on the couch, wrapping an arm around the boy's shoulders, holding him close. "if you need help, I'm here, okay?"

 

Connor only nodded.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

Night fell and Connor laid on the couch for the second night, Hank didn't want him to leave until everything was safe, and with only the company of Sumo's snores as the dog cuddled up against his chest, Connor continued to scan through his memories.

 

 

 

_"What's wrong tin can? Can't fend for yourself?"_

 

_"Holy shit! Dent the can and it'll still stand..."_

 

_"Let's see if we can make you a liiiitle more human."_

 

 

The man's face flickered with static, so Connor read further...And then he got it. Every single frame showed one piece, like a puzzle, all he had to do was put them together. Connor sat up lifting Sumo off of him and onto another part of the couch, sitting up off the couch entirely and grabbing a stack of papers, sketching intensely. He sketched for hours, breaking three pencils and going through twelve pieces of paper before he finally finished it. He stared into his eyes, and knew it was him.

 

"Hank...Wake up, Hank!" Connor whispered, shaking the older man gently.

 

"Connor....What the fuck is going on? What time is it?" He asked, his voice thick and groggy with sleep, swatting Connor's hand away as he gently tapped his cheek.

 

"It's four A.M. Lieu -...Hank, we need to go to the station!" Connor insisted, and Hank pulled himself up, rubbing his eyes as his vision adjusted to the light that Connor had flicked on.

 

"What? Why the fuck do we need to do that?!"

 

"Because I found him, Hank!" The Android put the sketch in the Lieutenant's hands, "Stephen Hopper, the man who attacked me, that's him." He clarified, and Hank's eyes widened i shock, seemingly a lot more awake than he was 0.5 seconds ago.

 

Hank looked up from the sketch, and up at Connor, "...You sure?"

 

Connor nodded, "I'm certain, Hank."

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

Connor stared at Stephen Hopper as he was forcefully pushed through the department, "THEY'RE NOT FUCKING REAL!" He shouted as Anderson shoved him into his cell, "THEY'RE JUST FUCKING TIN CANS!" He continued to spout, slamming on the glass of his cell, and Connor simply stared at him with a blank, dead expression. "You..." He snarled once it clicked for him, his brows furrowing in disbelief and anger.

 

"Yes," Connor nodded as Hank returned to his side, "me."

 

"You're all gonna end up in a fucking scrap yard."

 

"And you're going to end up in county jail for assault, along with a lump sum of fines and community service." Connor reminded, a small smile painted on his face as he turned his back to the cells, ignoring the man's constant screams and curses.

 

Because it didn't matter, he'd won.


End file.
